


The Other Grandfather

by avantegarda



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Christmas, Gen, ish, this could be considered part of guess who's coming to mordor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22418908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantegarda/pseuds/avantegarda
Summary: Young Elladan and Elrohir receive a rather unexpected Yuletide visitor.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	The Other Grandfather

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of a Secret Santa exchange for the 2019 holiday season and here I am a month later, posting it on Ao3. Good times.

At the age of twenty, Elladan and Elrohir considered themselves much too old for excessive excitement over the Midwinter festival. Certainly, the greenery hung around Imladris’ Great Hall was very pretty, but hardly anything to make a fuss over. And the various pies and pastries whose scents wafted out of the kitchens might have smelled delicious, but they weren’t what a  _ soldier  _ ate.

Still, no one could fault the twins for getting excited about having guests. And there were always loads of interesting people visiting Imladris during the midwinter season. Their grandparents always came from Lothlorien with the most wonderful presents imaginable, there were usually a few human diplomats hanging about, and even the mysterious Mithrandir himself would occasionally show up with fireworks.

The person who Elrond introduced them to the day before the solstice feast, however, was not exactly the sort of guest the twins were accustomed to seeing. For one thing, he arrived neither on horseback nor in a carriage, and received no formal announcement. Instead, Elrond simply brought him into the boys’ playroom and announced the arrival of a visitor.

“Boys,” said Elrond briskly, as though there were nothing at all unusual about the situation. “This is your grandfather.”

Elladan frowned suspiciously. “No it isn’t.”

“We’ve already got two grandfathers,” Elrohir put in. “Grandfather Celeborn got here two days ago and Grandfather Earendil is too busy being a star to come visit. No offense,” he added quickly, nodding at the stranger. 

“None taken,” the stranger replied, his low, musical voice betraying just a hint of amusement. “And you are quite correct, I technically am not your grandfather by blood.”

“But really, boys, I’m surprised you’ve forgotten the stories I’ve told you,” said Elrond. “This is your  _ other  _ grandfather, the one who looked after me when my parents left. Your grandfather Maglor.”

“Ohh,” Elladan and Elrohir chorused, eyes wide. They weren’t forgetful babies; of course they remembered Elrond’s stories about his unusual upbringing and the people who’d raised him. But Elrond had always described his foster-father as a brave warrior and brilliant musician, and a prince at that. Whereas the person they were meeting now looked...well.  _ Haggard  _ was putting it nicely. His gray cloak and brown satchel were both heavily patched, and his dark curls vaguely resembled a bird’s nest.

Sensing that no more polite greetings were coming from the twins, Elrond shook his head fondly. “Anyway. Father, these are my children; Elladan on the left, and Elrohir on the right. You may, of course, refer to me if you need any clarification about which is which.”

“I don’t imagine it will take me long to sort it out,” said Maglor, giving the boys a wink. “I always was rather good at telling twins apart.”

“So where have you been for the last few years?” Elrond asked, as the family settled in their private sitting room that evening. Outside, the snow was still falling steadily, coating the valley with a glittering sheet of white powder...with any luck, the twins agreed, the snow would be the right consistency for a snowball fight the next day.

“We haven’t seen you since the twins were babies,” said Celebrian. “In fact, we were starting to get a bit worried about you.”

“Oh, you know. I’ve been here and there,” Maglor said vaguely. “Down south for a bit, mainly in Harad. Interesting country, that. They do some marvelous things with beans. As it happens, I picked up some gifts for the children while I was down there. May I?” At Elrond and Celebrian’s nods, he reached into his satchel and pulled out two small bundles, wrapped in colorfully patterned cloth. “There you are, boys. A couple of early-Midwinter presents for you.”

“Oh!” Elladan exclaimed, eagerly unwrapping his gift and pulling out a small dagger with an exquisitely carved wooden handle, its blade wrapped in a soft leather sheath. “Look, Mother, a knife! And Elrohir got one too!”

“Those are ceremonial daggers that many Haradrim boys receive when they are ten years old,” said Maglor. “Symbolizing maturity. And, of course, they are  _ completely  _ blunt,” he added, shooting a wink at Elrond and Celebrian’s concerned frowns. “Couldn’t cut anything with that except butter.”

“And if I catch you boys sneaking down to the armory to get them sharpened you won’t have any butter on your bread for a year,” Elrond said sternly. “But that’s kind of you, Father. It certainly wasn’t necessary for you to bring any gifts.”

“Nonsense! What else are grandparents for? And I got you something too, of course. Well, not a  _ thing,  _ exactly. A song.” Reaching once again into his satchel, Maglor extracted a battered old fiddle. “Feel free to sing along if you know the words. I wrote this one  _ centuries  _ back.”

At their age, Elladan and Elrohir were hardly seasoned music critics. This, however, did not prevent them from being aware that what they were hearing was extraordinary.

In keeping with tradition, Elladan and Elrohir awoke at the crack of dawn on the day of the winter solstice, immediately hurrying to wake their parents. 

“Where’s Grandfather Maglor?” asked Elladan eagerly, bouncing up and down on his father’s feet. “Can we wake him up too? I want him to come play outside with us.”

Elrond’s face fell, and he shook his head sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, boys. Your grandfather had to leave earlier this morning.”

“He  _ did _ ? Why?”

“As it happens, he left you a letter. Hopefully he’ll explain himself.”

  
  


_ Dear Elladan and Elrohir, _

_ I am truly sorry that I must leave before today’s celebration. As your father may have explained to you, I made many mistakes in my past, and as a result there are many people in Imladris (including your grandmother) who would be very upset to see me at a party. Leaving early is really the best solution for everyone. _

_ I want to let you know, however, how much I have enjoyed seeing you again. The last time I was in Imladris you were tiny babies, and it’s extraordinary to see how much you’ve grown. You are wonderful, brave, clever children and I can easily understand why your parents are so proud of you. _

_ With love and hope for a bright New Year, _

_ Your grandfather Maglor _

_ PS: The next time I see you, I promise I will tell you the story of the time I met a sea serpent. _

  
  


“Well,” said Elrohir, when the two boys had finished reading.”I still say it’s too bad he couldn’t stay.”

“But if Grandmother Galadriel was going to be angry with him I understand why he left,” said Elladan. “She’s  _ scary _ when she’s angry.”

“What does he mean by  _ mistakes _ ?” asked Elrohir. “You haven’t told us very many stories about that.”

Elrond glanced hesitantly at Celebrian, who shook her head. “That’s not a good story for a holiday,” she said firmly. “We’ll talk about it another time. For now, who’s ready for a snowball fight?”

Elladan whooped in delight and leapt off the bed, while Elrohir remained behind, looking up at his father with concerned eyes. “Is Grandfather going to come back?” he asked. “I mean, he’s not gone  _ forever _ , is he?”

With a fond chuckle, Elrond patted his son on the head. “No, my dear, he’s not gone forever. He’ll be back one of these days. He doesn’t exactly stick to a schedule...but he’ll be back.”


End file.
